


Stupid Deep

by agent_starbuck



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Time, Jealous Fox Mulder, Porn Battle, Porn with Feelings, Shower Sex, Smut, xfpornbattle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 16:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20781845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_starbuck/pseuds/agent_starbuck
Summary: For XF Porn Battle prompts #12 (Makeup sex, from behind, against a wall or door) and #35 (shower sex).Set in or around season 5, after Scully's cancer goes into remission. Basically PWP with just the right amount of feelings. And angst. Because... let's be honest here... do I know how to write anything else?





	Stupid Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I feel like it's been so long since I've actually posted something. Hopefully, I haven't lost my ability to write. Enjoy!

They drive in silence down a quiet street near Sebring, Florida. It's dark out-- a fine mist creeping in with its eerie, opaline tendrils, blanketing the asphalt as their car navigates its way through, collecting tiny droplets of moisture on the windshield as it goes. Only in Florida would you need to use windshield wipers when it wasn't even raining. Everything here is damp.

They've spent too many hours in the Florida sun, and this case has been exhausting. She thought a little sunshine would feel rejuvenating-- a way to recharge her batteries after recovering from her cancer, but it's done the opposite. She feels utterly drained. Suddenly, she misses the brisk, fall air back in DC. 

She forgot how much she hates mosquitoes.

If she were being entirely honest, it's not the sun or the damp or even the mosquitoes that have found her in a less-than-amicable mood tonight. It's Mulder. 

He's been in a funk all day; his irritable behavior manifesting itself in subtle ways-- maybe too subtle for the average person to perceive-- but luckily, after five years, she's well-versed in Mulder's unpredictable and erratic behavior. The set of his granite-sharp jaw, the way his nostrils flare ever-so-slightly when he talks to her… his piercing black eyes that slice right through her.

She wonders, sometimes, if Angry Mulder is much different from Turned-on Mulder, but immediately chastises herself before the thought encroaches into dangerous territory. There are times to nurture that curiosity and times to push it deep down inside where even the Florida sunshine can't reach. 

They pull into the motel parking lot, and she almost feels the impulse to ask him what's wrong as he kills the engine, but the words shrivel and die on her lips before he unbuckles his belt and reaches for the door handle. 

Maybe it's that she doesn't want to know. Or maybe it's that she already _does_, deep down, but is afraid to acknowledge it.

"Night, Mulder," she attempts as she exits the car, but he's already crossed the threshold to his room, the door snicking shut behind him with a finality that echoes through her ears and makes her feel a little too uneasy.

Once inside her own room, she paces back and forth like a caged animal. If only he was aware how crazy he made her sometimes. Years ago, she would've been able to let this one go. Often times, she would find Mulder in these capricious moods and found it best just to give him space. Many times, she even found it endearing.

But tonight? Tonight feels different. Tonight, she's skirting that thin line between wanting to kiss him or kill him.

She pauses to take a breath, slipping through the adjoining door and into his room. 

She thinks she hears the sound of running water from the shower, but it sounds so much like her own tumultuous heartbeat rushing through her ears, she's unsure.

Her legs carry her to the bathroom door with purpose as if on a mission she's not yet privy to, and she pauses-- standing frozen in place. Waiting. Listening. Wondering.

She should turn and go back. He would never know she was here. And yet…

She knocks twice, then three times, concluding it with a "Mulder?" for good measure, before she realizes that he has no intention of answering her. 

If he's challenging her, as he does with most everything in their partnership, he's doing a damn good job of it. He knows exactly how to press her buttons, and that fact infuriates her a little more than it should. She's too exhausted to play his games. Especially tonight.

A cloud of damp heat swirls around her as she steps into the bathroom, the smell of his masculine body wash filling her lungs and going straight to her head. Suddenly, she feels lightheaded. Whether it's because she hasn't had anything to eat since half a bagel (with faux cream cheese) at six this morning-- or because the only barrier that exists between herself and a very wet, naked Mulder is a flimsy piece of nearly-see-through plastic.

She grips the edge of the sink to steady herself, taking in a shaky lungful of damp air, before moving her fingers to the clasp on her pants. The soft material lands in a pile at the bottom of her feet, and her immediate thought is that this is much easier than she imagined it would be. After all these years. After all the restless nights spent in her own hotel room, listening through those thin walls on the other side as Mulder showered (and one time she could've sworn he did something more) and pined-- physically _ pined _ to be with him-- here she is, in his bathroom, moments away from allowing fantasy to finally become reality.

She feels bold. Reinvigorated. Her blouse soon joins her pants on the floor, then her bra and, finally, her panties, and before her mind has the opportunity to catch up, to reason its way out of making this mistake, she's already stepping towards him. 

Always towards him.

Without preamble, she dramatically flings the curtain to the side and steps inside.

"Scu-- Scully! Wha-- what..." Mulder manages as he fumbles to cover himself before giving up. A little too easy, she notices. 

"What the hell?!" he finally says, squaring his shoulders defensively. 

"You feel like talking to me now?" She challenges archly. Strands of hair curl and stick to her cheek as the mist from the spray hits her face. She licks the moisture gathering on her lips, and Mulder definitely notices, before mirroring her actions and licking his own lips in response. 

"No, actually, I don't," he responds tersely through clenched teeth, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You're not going to tell me what the hell has you so upset? Why you haven't even been able to look at me all day?"

"If you expect me to formulate any kind of a coherent response while you're standing there in front of me, naked, then you think _ way _ too highly of my ability to compartmentalize," he says as his gaze immediately fixates on a wandering droplet of water snaking its way down her neck. 

She pauses, then swallows thickly.

"It is the only way I can get your attention," she admits, biting her lip nervously. 

"I'm a hundred percent positive that's not true," he says as his eyes soften at her sudden sense of unease. 

"Well, maybe not the _only_ way. But it's working, isn't it?"

"You definitely have my attention, Scully, yes. My _ full _ attention," he responds huskily, and the double entendre isn't lost on her. It requires a momentous level of self-control not to investigate how true his admission really is. 

He steps forward, just slightly and, in spite of how hot the running water is, of the heat radiating from his body, she shivers. Leave it to Mulder to incite within her a paradoxical reaction to temperature. He's always defied her logic.

"You really wanna know why I've been so… distant… today?" The low timbre of his voice sets every nerve ending in her body ablaze, and all she can do is nod helplessly in response. He leans in, closer still.

"Because of Agent Henderson," he murmurs against the shell of her ear. "Because he has been shamelessly flirting with you since we arrived in this town. And because all I've wanted to do, besides shove him off a cliff, is make you laugh, make you smile, just a fraction of the way he does."

Her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach. Is this really what he thinks? That some wannabe hot-shot junior agent could ever capture her attention the way Mulder does-- and has for years?

"Mulderrrr--" she admonishes, and reaches out to touch his chest in an automatic, reassuring gesture that is usually completely innocent, until her hand unexpectedly meets wet, slick skin instead of the cotton of his dress shirt, and she pulls back as if she's been burned. 

"He may have made me laugh. He may have even made me smile. But he has never stolen the breath from my lungs with just a single glance. He has never made my heart race from just a single touch. He has never made me blush at the mere _ thought _ of kissing him," she struggles to talk, her chest heaving with increasing breathlessness, and his pupils darken with each word that falls from her lips.

"Oh yeah?" he whispers as he backs her against the smooth tile of the shower wall.

"Yeah," she hisses in response seconds before his mouth descends upon hers in a desperate, hungry kiss. His wet lips glide effortlessly over hers, aided by the spray of the shower, and the feeling is so incredibly erotic. He hums against her mouth, the sound reverberating off the shower walls, and she can feel the slickness between her legs start to form in anticipation. 

His hands begin to explore every soaking inch of her skin as his kisses grow more frenzied, and it's sensory overload of the most delicious kind. Fingertips glide over her ribs, tentatively at first, then growing more bold as their tongues start a delicate dance, before finally locating an erect nipple and giving it a gentle pinch. 

"Oh, fuck" she moans, breaking their kiss, and allowing Mulder the perfect opportunity to suck at the tendons straining against her neck.

"You're so beautiful, Scully," he groans between kisses as he makes his way down her chest. "So perfect." His slick mouth finally finds her breast, and he sucks at the sensitive flesh before licking a path to her nipple and closing his lips around it, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Her clit swells at the thought of that skilled tongue teasing something _ else _. Something a little lower, and much more wet.

Her hands immediately reach around to squeeze his perfect ass, and he bucks against her in response. She feels the tip of his erect cock brush against her inner thigh and she moans.

"Christ, Scully."

Emboldened by his reaction, and the feel of him so hard and ready, she sneaks a hand between them, wrapping it around his swollen length and giving it a slow, torturous tug.

"Fuuccckk," he hisses against her flushed chest in response. "God, you should… ah… probably stop doing that if you want me to last."

"I don't want you to last, Mulder. I'm so ready," she croons as she removes her hand and tugs at the hair on his scalp to bring him up for a kiss. She's so desperately wet, she's almost dripping. A fact which is reinforced by Mulder reaching down to run a finger along her swollen folds. A sensual gasp is ripped from her lungs at the feel of him _there._ Finally.

"You're so wet, Scully… Jesus." He kisses her sweetly, softly, and she melts against him as he swirls the pad of his fingers against her clit. Just as he finds a rhythm that makes her toes curl and her muscles twitch in anticipation, he abruptly withdraws his hand.

"Turn around," he orders and the tone of his voice makes her skin erupt in tiny goosebumps. She does as she's told and he presses her against the wall from behind. She can feel every delicious inch of him trapped against the flesh of her ass, and she struggles to catch her breath as he starts to thrust his hips upwards.

"I want to fuck you from behind," he whispers in her ear and all she can manage, at this point, in return is a desperate 'yes.'

Before she has time to prepare, she feels the crown of him tease her soaking entrance, and she can scarcely believe this is finally happening. A small, _ very small _, part of her regrets that their first time won't be someplace a little more… comfortable. Someplace where she could actually watch him as he enters her-- see him struggle not to lose control. But that thought is immediately discarded as he begins to push inside, inch by inch, only stopping to allow her to adjust to his girth, until he's fully buried to the hilt.

"Ohmygod, Scully," he finally breathes. "I'm-- I'm inside you."

"I know," she replies with a small smirk as she rests her head against the tile and focuses on her breathing, on relaxing her muscles around him.

"It-- ah-- you feel so incredible."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmmm. Yes. Definitely."

"Wait until you actually start moving."

"I don't think I'll survive."

"Humor me," she breathes.

And so he does. Slowly withdrawing before sinking into her again and then again-- filling her so full she doesn't ever think she can go back to before-- to pretending she doesn't know the way he fits inside her so perfectly.

"Mmmm, oh god, _yes_."

Her encouragements prompt his thrusts to grow more frantic, more desperate, as he picks up the pace. The angle each time he enters her allows the head of his cock to brush against her G-spot perfectly, and already she can feel the tension build low in her belly, begging to be released. His lips latch on to every inch of skin they can find… her back, her shoulders, her hair… but her favorite thing, the thing that nearly brings her to the brink of tears, is when he tenderly strokes her strands away from the nape of her neck and places a soft kiss against the implant in her neck. A promise. One that he has already fulfilled, but won't soon let her forget.

He doesn't need to say it. Words could never be enough.

She comes silently, wordlessly, shattering around him as he reverently chants her name like a prayer. He follows close behind, spilling into her over and over again, giving her everything he has, until there isn't anything left to give. Until they both lie on the shower floor, tangled and spent.

That night, tucked away against Mulder's chest in the safety of his arms, she reaches around to run a finger over the tiny scar on the back of her neck. A promise. One that she has already fulfilled, but won't soon let him forget.

She doesn't need to say it. Words could never be enough.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
